Allons-y!
by Pandasushiroll
Summary: A poem about a mad man in an impossible blue box! "Allons-y!" He always says! This is a poem about Ten and it spans from series 2-4 all the way up until the regeneration into Eleven so if you haven't gotten that far, SPOILERS. Hints of Ten/Rose and Ten/Donna and their friendship if you squint.


_Hullo! Its been a little while I know! I made a note in my story Haven't Met You Yet about my move up to a college dorm so that's why I haven't gotten around to posting anything for awhile. I will have anyone who's interested in Chores and Troubles that I am busy working on the fourth chapter! It's mostly hand written so I just have to type it up and edit it! _

_On to this piece, so I've recently way gotten into Doctor Who (HAHA I KNOW I'M LATE.) and while I was sitting around this afternoon this little poem came to me! It's basically a summary of series 2-4 with Ten so if you haven't seen any of those SPOILER ALERT. But I thought it might be a good thing to show you to prove I was still alive and writing and everything. Hilariously enough I'm actually rubbish and poetry but I couldn't be bothered to write out a proper one shot. I might get around to that soon though._

_SO ANYWAY! Please review and let me know what you think!_

_DOCTOR WHO BELONGS TO BBC AND ALL THOSE BRITS AND IS DEFINITELY NOT MINE. Because if it was...things would get complicated._

* * *

**Allons-y!**

"Let's go! Let's go!"

He's always prepared to depart on another quest, another adventure.

Taking him nowhere and everywhere, upwards and onwards!

Allons-y!

First there is a Rose.

So soft and sweet and young,

She is sometimes gracious,

She is sometimes selfish.

She is filled with a deep love, a love that consumes her.

There is a wall, tall and white and final.

The final chapter of their journey together.

Once a bridge between worlds-

But now a bittersweet goodbye.

A painful reminder of a deep love gained and lost all too soon.

No longer is it The Doctor and The Rose.

Only he remains,

Just he,

The Doctor.

But allons-y!

There is briefly a Noble woman,

The most important woman in the entire galaxy.

Ordinary and plain, and yet not!

She is extraordinary and brave,

Courageous and bold,

Brash and confused,

And unbelievably kind.

"No" Says she.

No to adventure.

No to him.

No to companionship.

This is not her, she insists,

"This is…"

Too much.

He is only mildly hurt, he tells himself, when he shuffles into the TARDIS.

He is lost.

"No" is not the answer he hears often.

"No" and The Doctor's companion do not usually mix.

But allons-y!

There is Martha Jones next.

A doctor so like and unlike him.

There is a distance,

A gap,

A void left by a beautiful sweet Rose.

Martha tries to fill the void,

But she cannot.

There is not another Rose like _his _Rose.

Nor another woman so extraordinarily Noble as Donna.

Poor Martha, so alone in her battle against the world.

But with one word she succeeds.

One powerful word.

"Doctor" They chant.

It is unusual and beautiful all at once.

No one knows of him,

The Doctor and his deeds,

"Thank you" and The Doctor do not usually mix.

And allons-y!

Life is boring.

Unceremonious and plain.

Life is dull, Donna finds.

She investigates and searches for that Doctor,

The Doctor.

With his adventures,

With his quests,

With his mad blue box.

Their reunion is unexpected but warm.

They have many adventures, forwards and backwards,

The best of times.

So allons-y!

Too soon it ends, with forgotten memories and heartbreak.

She doesn't wish to return to that dull life before him.

But he insists.

The most Noble and important woman in the galaxy forgets.

She forgets him,

She forgets her brilliance,

She forgets their adventures,

She forgets the best of times.

But allons-y!

His song will end soon.

There will be no more adventures,

Or companions,

Or fun,

Not for this incarnation.

He is a good man,

A kind man,

An old man.

But he is not a man at all.

Allons-y!

He is consumed by a blinding brightness,

It pours from him,

Transforming him,

Killing him,

Saving him,

He will die.

The Doctor will live.

He always does.

"Let's go! Let's go!" The Doctor has always said.

"I don't want to go." He says.

The Doctor is a new man,

A tired man,

A mad man.

But he is not a man at all.

Fire dances around him now, like a great big ball of yellow and red, orchestrated by sparks.

The impossible blue box screeches a welcome.

The world turns this way and that.

He is The Doctor: a mad man in an impossible blue box.

He is crashing, but he has only one thing left to say;

"Geronimo!"


End file.
